Autumn
by Remus J. Lupin-Black
Summary: A series of drabbles for the livejournal community scarvesnhats.
1. Day One: Home

**Prompt**: _All things on earth point home in old October: sailors to sea,  
travellers to walls and fences, hunters to field and hollow and  
the long voice of the hounds, the lover to the love he has forsaken._

(Thomas Wolfe)

-

The first of October had finally come and Sirius paced impatiently in the entrance hall. He had been pacing for nearly an hour now. Absently, he stopped to examine the banister, his thin fingers playing over the wood for a brief moment before he grew tired of this distraction and returned to his pacing once more. The house was eerily quiet. Arthur was off at work and Molly had gone to Diagon Alley to pick up groceries and Remus - Remus had been gone since Harry had returned to Hogwarts. His shoulder tensed at the sound of locks turning quietly in the door. With practiced grace, he slid into his second form and rushed down to the kitchen. Two minutes and twenty-three seconds later, Remus appeared, looking ready for a long nap. Sirius shoved a cup of steaming hot tea at him and led him to a chair.


	2. Day Two: Fetish

**Prompt**: Picture available to be seen in the livejournal entry at cerridwen666 dot livejournal dot com slash 84820 dot html.

-

"I blame you," Sirius said happily as he trudged across the field. "I blame you entirely."

"Yes," Remus said sagely, "because we all know that I enjoy torturing you with footwear. You just splashed through that puddle, along with the last seven puddles. I think you should blame yourself."

"I think you have a fetish," Remus stopped at that, looking at Sirius in amazement.

"Pardon?" he asked.

"A fetish," Sirius repeated, moving carefully to the left. Without a word of warning, he had splashed down into another puddle. Dirty water soaked his trousers and he grinned before moving on, looking for signs of the next puddle. "You have a thing for me in rubber."

"Sirius, it just stopped raining. It is going to be wet and I refuse to allow you to run about without boots on, especially to splash in puddles. You're going to get sick and then I'll have to take care of you, and you're a miserable cunt when you're sick. I do not have a rubber fetish."

Sirius tugged off one of the black boots that he was wearing and examined it carefully, his sock soaking up water. Remus groaned in frustration.

"Let's see. It's black. Forms to my leg, I say you have a rubber fetish. Not to mention, you are wearing the most horrendous pink coloured ones. Have you no shame?"

"Yes, but my feet are dry and that's all that matters," Remus answered. "Now, put that back on."

Sirius waved the boot in his face.

"Admit it. You want me in a suit of rubber. Not just boots. A whole suit of it. Skin tight too I bet," he said teasingly.

Remus sighed long suffering.

"Sirius," he said patiently. "We are trudging through a field. You have soaked most of your jeans with filthy water and are mocking me for my boot choice. I am in no way thinking about you in a rubber suit," he paused and he gazed at Sirius with an almost predatory look in his eyes. Sirius grinned, "alright, now I am, but you planted the image. Put the damn boot back on and let's get back home. I blame you for this entirely."


	3. Day Three: Greenhouse

**Prompt**: _However, he did not give up. He brought to his wooing the same determination which had made him second gardener at the Hall at twenty-five. He was a novice at the game, but instinct told him that a good line of action was to shower gifts. He did so. All he had to shower was vegetables, and he showered them in a way that would have caused the goddess Ceres to be talked about. His garden became a perfect crater, erupting vegetables. Why vegetables? I think I hear some heckler cry. Why not flowers--fresh, fair, fragrant flowers? You can do a lot with flowers. Girls love them. There is poetry in them. And, what is more, there is a recognized language of flowers. Shoot in a rose, or a calceolaria, or an herbaceous border, or something, I gather, and you have made a formal proposal of marriage without any of the trouble of rehearsing a long speech and practising appropriate gestures in front of your bedroom looking-glass. Why, then, vegetables?. . . . Well, you see, unfortunately, it was now late autumn, and there were no flowers. Nature had temporarily exhausted her floral blessings, and was jogging along with potatoes and artichokes and things. Love is like that. It invariably comes just at the wrong time._

(P. G. Wodehouse, _The Man Upstairs and Other Stories)_

_- _

Sirius had only really liked one thing about Grimmauld Place: the greenhouse, but recent events made him loath it. He could hardly ever go out into the backyard and even then it was always under Molly or Remus' watchful eye. Remus was more lenient on how long he could run about the yard as Padfoot, but Molly would shout at him if he stayed too long. The greenhouse on the other hand was safe from public intrusion and he was allowed there any time he pleased. He did spend a good deal of time in there; his mother's firewhiskey was there, under a trick door in the middle of the floor. Remus hadn't found that just yet which meant he wouldn't get that 'I am disappointed in you' look just yet.

He was there now, long legs curled under him as he sipped from one of the many bottles, watching the pale blue leaves of one of his mother's still living plants twitch in the still air. He was amazed that anything was alive in this place, but somehow these little blue shoots had thrived almost. The blue plants had bloomed during the summer. Large, pretty blood red flowers that Sirius had tended to with great care. He couldn't really say why he hadn't destroyed the damn thing along with the rest of his mother's belongings. The flowers had faded some time ago and now he was just left with these blue plants.

The leaves were soft to the touch, like velvet. It reminded Sirius of his mother's robes. She had once, when he was five, worn dress robes for a Halloween party that had been made of the softest velvet. She had laughed when he had buried himself in the fabric during the party to hide from his father.

He growled at the plant for reminding him.

"Sirius?" he looked up sharply.

Remus was standing in the door, his brown eyes on the bottle in Sirius' hand. Sirius' shoulder tensed, expecting another fight, but Remus just shook his head and walked into the room to kneel down beside him near the plant.

"Hey," he said in reply.

"What is this?" Remus asked, reaching out to touch the soft leaves. They leaned into his touch and he smiled pleasantly.

"Don't know. Mother was the herbologist. She liked to breed things. Made a plant that would bite things," he muttered.

"This certainly isn't biting anyone," Remus said, petting the leaves.

"It's probably poisonous," Sirius growled.

Remus raised an eyebrow at him and he quieted, taking another drink from the bottle before setting it aside. They stayed like this for a few moments, Sirius glowering at the plant, his legs tucked under him while Remus crouched next to him, his hands on the floor as he gazed quietly at Sirius. With a grunt of irritation, Sirius lurched forward; Remus immediately reached out to keep him from falling over; and ripped one of the plants out of the ground. He very nearly did fall over, but Remus had one hand on his arm. Sirius laughed.

"It's a beet," he said finally, holding up the dark red vegetable. Remus gazed at it in surprise.

"Beets don't have blue leaves," he said quietly. "Are you sure it's not a crossbreed of some sort?"

"Fine, it's my heart," Sirius snapped, ignoring the question as he shoved it into Remus' chest and knocked him back onto the floor and away from him. "I don't care."

"You're drunk," Remus said as he examined the beet in his hands.

"A lecture?" Sirius demanded, swallowing the last mouthful.

Remus sighed, shaking his head.

"No."


	4. Day Four: Melt Away

**Prompt**: it's the season of grace coming out of the void  
where a man is saved by a voice in the distance  
it's the season of possible miracle cures  
where hope is currency and death is not the last unknown  
where time begins to fade  
and age is welcome home  
it's the season of eyes meeting over the noise  
and holding fast with sharp realization  
it's the season of cold making warmth a divine intervention  
you are safe here you know now

_don't forget  
don't forget I love  
I love  
I love you_

it's the season of scars and of wounds in the heart  
of feeling the full weight of our burdens  
it's the season of bowing our heads in the wind  
and knowing we are not alone in fear  
not alone in the dark

-

Remus sat easily in the chair nearest the fire, a book opened in his lap while a slew of other students chattered loudly nearby. James was nearby, talking quietly to Lily who was, for the first time, looking at him with something other disdain. Meanwhile, Peter was embattled with Sirius over a game of chess. It was clear that Sirius had the upper hand, but as Remus gazed at the hunted look in Peter's eyes, it was clear that he was prepared to make a sneak attack that would win him the game.

Someone shouted loudly nearby and Sirius looked up sharply. Remus looked away toward the fire before he could catch him watching. Only two weeks had passed now. The fire flickered merrily in the hearth and Remus felt the urge to look at Sirius and Peter once again. He had barely spoken to Sirius in the last two weeks and every time Peter and James had been present. Finally, with a small sigh, he looked toward Sirius only to find the gray eyes on him and Peter cheering his victory while James snickered and Lily tried to hide her laughter.

The noise seemed to melt away. Sirius smiled sadly at him from across the room, his eyes desperate, conveying some hope that things could go back to the way they had been two weeks before, and the despair that they would not. Remus locked eyes with him and realized suddenly that it was over and that there would be no more averted looks, no more awkward conversations, and that everything was okay. The wounds had healed.

He smiled.


	5. Day Five: Space

**Prompt**: _Here we lived and fed…not minding the little space, trod on each other like birds in a hole, elbowed our ways without spite, all talking at once or silent at once…but never I think feeling overcrowded, being as separate as notes in a scale._

(Laurie Lee, _Cider with Rosie_)

-

"Budge over," James said, elbowing Sirius in the side as he attempted to sit down. Remus looked away from the window in surprise to Sirius, James, and Peter sitting on the other side of the compartment. "Go sit on the other side, Black. We're sitting here."

Peter was looking rather meek, keeping himself quiet while Sirius and James jockeyed for the extra space. James won and sat back with a self satisfied smirk while Sirius, flushed, collapsed across from him, wedged into the corner as far from Remus as possible, arms crossed over his chest as he pouted.

"Oh, don't do that," James whined, kicking Sirius' in the shin. Sirius didn't both responding, just tucked his legs up and scowled. "Sheesh, you'd think we hadn't figured out that you want to sit there. You should have told us. 'Course I can't guarantee that I would have acted so favorably when I first found out."

Sirius' scowl disappeared to be replaced with shock and James frowned at him. Remus, having expected this, just looked back out the window. Peter was looking at James, waiting for his reaction before he said anything. They were silent, the four of them, crowded into the compartment and finally, Sirius sighed heavily.

"Fine," he said, a hint of a smile on his face, "but if I hear you make one remark about it, you fucking arse, I will kill you dead."

James muttered something back, but it went unheard as Peter started talking as well and then, Remus realized that Sirius was leaning against him, one arm resting comfortably on his shoulder and his left leg pressed intimately close to his right. He gazed at Sirius in surprise at his daring. James wasn't looking quite at them, but it was clear that he wasn't going to say anything. Remus relaxed and glanced at Peter, who shrugged and pulled out a book. James sat back, satisfied for the moment.


	6. Day Six: Discovery

**Prompt**: the harvest moon

-

Sirius sat uneasily in the chair at the first. The only reason he wasn't twitchy was years of learning never to fidget. Peter was fidgeting, but it was clearly for a different reason as James was helping him with his Transfigurations essay. He glanced over to the wall and could very nearly see the full moon in his mind's eye. It was a harvest moon so it was probably orange or red. Maybe blood red.

He stood up and James and Peter looking at him curiously. Immediately, Sirius came up with an excuse.

"I am going to go to the library. I need to look up something," he said smoothly, amazed that after only a year of being around James, he had learned to lie so efficiently, though he couldn't help the knot of guilt that appeared at the thought that he was lying to his friends.

James shrugged.

"Whatever you want. Come on, Pete. It's not that difficult."

Sirius fled before James or Peter could offer to join him. He moved quietly down to McGonagall's office and hoped that she would be there. He knocked loudly on the heavy oak door and stood still as he listened to a few locks come undone. It swung open just a fraction and McGonagall glared down at him sternly, looking ever bit like how his mother could look when she was displeased with him. He swallowed.

"It is after curfew, Mr. Black," she said shrewdly. "Five points–"

Sirius interrupted her in his haste.

"I know where Remus is, Professor," he said and promptly shut him mouth, waiting for the strike that would have come from his father for daring to interrupt.

McGonagall's eyes widened behind the square frames and she stood back from the door and opened it further, placing a hand on Sirius' should and pulling him into her office. He stood uneasily in the middle of the room as his Head of House closed the door.

"Might I ask how you figured this out?" she asked, moving so that she was sitting at her desk, she motioned for Sirius to take one the chairs on the opposite side.

"My mother, Professor," Sirius started, "is a herbologist and she let me help her with some things in the greenhouse this summer. She was telling me about different plants and how they bloom on full moons and she gave me a book about it. It gives the dates for full moons and…" he trailed off, nervous at the incredulous look that McGonagall was giving him. "He's a werewolf, isn't he, Professor?"

McGonagall nodded.

"You astound me, Mr. Black. I did not think that you or your friends would stumble upon Mr. Lupin's secret by yourself," she said after a moment. "Of course, this leaves me with a question. How many of your peers have to you told?"

Sirius straightened up unconsciously at the stern glare from her.

"None, Professor," McGonagall nodded.

"I am aware of your family. Just two months ago, you're father provided funding to a new piece of legislature that would limit even more rights to werewolves as most wizards view them as being subhuman. I could ask what you are planning to do with this new information."

"I should tell Remus, should I not?" Sirius asked.

"This is your decision," McGonagall stood up and gazed out the window. "You are only beginning your second year. I would tell you to think deeply on what you have seen of Remus and make a judgment from there. You do understand why he did not tell you and your friends, correct?"

Sirius nodded.

"Yes, Professor," he very nearly started fidgeting as she looked sharply at him.

"How do you feel about sharing your dorm with a werewolf, Mr. Black?" Sirius started in surprise and then finally, he did fidget slightly, his shoulders jerking momentarily before he gathered himself again.

"He's Remus. He's not going to eat me," he said after a minute. "I mean…well I suppose he would during a full moon, but he's locked away isn't he? That's why he isn't in the dorms tonight, right?"

McGonagall nodded.

"Ten points to Gryffindor, Mr. Black, for a rather insightful view on things. Though I suppose you could have worded it a bit better," she allowed a smallest of smile and Sirius couldn't help but smile in response. "Now, I have essays to grade for my fifth years. I would suggest that you return to Gryffindor tower, Mr. Black and think about what you plan to do with this new information. I would ask though that you not tell anyone else unless Mr. Lupin gives you his permission."

Sirius nodded.

"Yes, Professor," he stood up and moved toward the door, opening it. He turned back to look at his Head of House, but she was all ready writing something on a piece of parchment on her desk – one of the essays, no doubt. He closed the door behind him and started back toward Gryffindor Tower.


	7. Day Seven: Twins

**Prompt**: **October 7, 1977: Invasion of Swedish identical twins**

_Ninety sets of Swedish identical twins have travelled to Felixstowe for a brief shopping trip. The twins are taking part in studies by researchers from the Karolinska Institutet in Stockholm. The scientists are investigating links between the environment and human behaviour. But participants are viewing the excursion as a form of light relief. As one twin put it, they have come across "just for fun". As the twins disembarked from their ship, the Tor Scandinavia, each pair was confusingly dressed in matching outfits. It is hoped the sets of siblings might find something different to wear when they spend their money in the local shops and boutiques._

_'Twins cruise'_

_The visit to Felixstowe is the brainchild of the ship's captain, Sune Dahlström, also a twin. He claims his inspiration to charter the 'twins cruise' came from an encounter a few years ago with two identical twin sisters riding identical twin horses. "For me it's very strange indeed to see so many people who are identical - although I'm used to it myself, it's very strange you know," he said. Aged between 11 and 80 the sets of twins come from all parts of Sweden and most live apart from each other. But today they are reunited, and looking to spend._

-

"I think I'm going crazy," Sirius murmured quietly across the table of the café. Remus stared at him from over the edge of his mug while Lily stifled a giggle behind her hands.

"I thought you all ready had," James said smoothly and was promptly shoved off of his chair by Sirius. Lily shot him a death glare and went to help her fiancé back into his chair with Peter's help while James attempted to speak, but a well-placed silencing charm had shut him up. People were staring at them all in surprise.

Remus coughed to hide the smirk on his face as Sirius crossed his arms over his chest, looking smug.

"So, why, might I ask, are you going crazy?" he asked curiously.

"That's the seventeenth set of twins that I've seen," Sirius admitted finally, pointing to the towheaded pair standing at the counter. Lily rolled her eyes.

"It is not," she said indignantly.

Sirius scowled.

"Yes it is. I know how to count, Evans. I have counted seventeen pairs of twins with blonde hair so far," he said.

"I've seen a couple of them," Peter piped up. Lily sent him a dark glare and he promptly stopped talking, looking intently into at the biscuit on his plate.

"Honestly, there can't be that many twins running around. Especially in Felixstowe," she said sagely.

"Actually," Remus said, motioning to the four people that had just walked through the door, "there can and if anyone but me bothered to read Dumbledore's second note which arrived shortly before we had to leave London, they would know about the boat coming in today caring our contacts. Twins. From Sweden."

Everyone stared at him as he quietly went back to drinking his tea.


	8. Day Eight: Laundry

**Prompt**: inserts picture of infant buried in a pile of clothes

-

Padfoot sniffed casually over the pile of clean laundry on the floor of Lily and James' bedroom, not really caring about the fact that there were now long black strands of dog hair all over the clean clothes. Harry giggled as the black dog huffed onto his face. Padfoot sneezed and then turned as another figure appear in the door of the bedroom. Moony.

Bounding across the room, he transformed mid-step and wrapped both arms around Remus' waist and kissed him hard on the mouth. He pulled back with a grin and then turned back to retrieve Harry from the laundry.

"Lily is going to have a fit when she sees dog hair on her clean laundry," Remus said.

"When Padfoot takes a nap with his godson, it is only in the most comfortable of places."


	9. Day Nine: Flame

**Prompt**: I would like to give you the silver  
branch, the small white flower, the one  
word that will protect you  
from the grief at the center  
of your dream, from the grief  
at the center. I would like to follow  
you up the long stairway  
again & become  
the boat that would row you back  
carefully, a flame  
in two cupped hands  
to where your body lies  
beside me, and you enter  
it as easily as breathing in

I would like to be the air  
that inhabits you for a moment  
only. I would like to be that unnoticed  
& that necessary.

Margaret Atwood, _Variations on the Word Sleep_

-

Holding the blue flames in his hand, Sirius sat curled up on the bed, watching the sleeping form beside him, trying to take in everything before he would have to leave. He kept the flame away from Remus' face, fearful to wake him and be noticed. He wouldn't be able to take the golden-brown eyes filled with concern, the fall of sun bleached brown hair across his forehead. It would only kill him and he would spill everything.

He shifted quietly on the mattress and gazed at the sleeping form, the light dusting of hair on the thin chest, the long legs beneath the blanket, and the curled hands. Sirius sighed softly and closed his hands around the flame. The sun had begun to stain the sky, bringing life to the dead leaves still hanging on the trees and he had to go.


	10. Day Ten: Moon

**Prompt**: Some people,  
no matter what you give them,  
still want the moon.

The bread,  
the salt,  
white meat and dark,  
still hungry.

The marriage bed  
and the cradle,  
still empty arms.

You give them land,  
their own earth under their feet,  
still they take to the roads.

And water: dig them the deepest well,  
still it's not deep enough  
to drink the moon from.

_Denise Levertov_

-

"What do you want?"

"Excuse me?"

"What do you want? For your birthday?" hazel eyes, flecked with what Sirius believed to be actual gold gazed at him from across the table.

"You don't have to get me anything," Sirius replied, sucking on the tip of his quill. He'd likely have ink stains on his lips again come tomorrow.

"Well, I want to get you something. You got me something. It's only fair," Remus said easily. Sirius sighed and leaned back in his chair, balancing on the back two legs and propping his feet up onto the table.

"I don't know. I've got everything I could possibly want," he said with a smile, cocking his head to the left.

"You have to want something," Remus said, and then, seeing the look that Sirius was giving him, he leaned partially across the table pretending to be reaching for one of the books besides Sirius' feet. He lowered his voice. "Besides a blowjob, you git."

Sirius laughed quietly and removed his feet from the table, the chair thumping back to the floor as he playfully tugged on the hem of Remus' robes.

"Stay out of my mind," he said. "Fine, give me…the moon."

Remus blinked, lowering himself back into his chair.

"The what?"

"The moon. So that I might swear by it my love for you," Sirius said quietly, hoping that his voice wouldn't carry too much. "After all, I all ready have everything else. What more can I ask for?"

Remus grinned.

"You ought to brush up on your muggle plays, Sirius," he said with a smile. "O, swear not by the moon, the fickle moon, the inconstant moon, that monthly changes in her circle orb, lest that thy love prove likewise variable."

"Oh fine. So I can't have the moon?" Sirius pouted.

"I'm afraid that I haven't got the power to give it to you," he said with a smile.

"Ah, well it's the gesture that counts," Sirius grabbed his bag from the floor and stood up. "Up you get, Moony. We have a moon to catch."

Remus snorted in amusement and followed Sirius as he – though he would deny it – skipped out of the library, humming.


	11. Day Eleven: Photo

**Prompt**: Can be seen in the scarvesnhats community on LiveJournal or in the story that is on my LiveJournal. It's my website on my bio here.

-

Remus sat easily on the train, his quill moving smoothly over the parchment as he wrote a letter to Dumbledore to let him know that he and Sirus were both safe and sound and on their way home. He looked up between words to find the Sirius had curled up in the seat, despite his initial discomfort with the muggle means of transportation. His normally combed black hair was a mess of tangled strands. Remus could be sure that his wasn't much better looking. He watched Sirius sleep for a moment, watching the way the lights made his face appear paler than it should. They both needed to rest. Remus gazed momentarily at his camera lying on the table forgotten. Sirius had taken it with in the hopes of taking a few pictures of some of the Spanish countryside. He had gotten a few pictures, but then nothing of real interest, as they had been too busy to do any real sight seeing.

"One of these days, Remus, when this war is over, we're going to come back. Promise."

Remus smiled, reaching for the camera. Looking through the view, he gazed at Sirius from across the table. The camera shutter clicked loudly and he lowered the camera carefully, fearful the sound had woken his companion. Sirius hadn't even twitched. Putting the camera back onto the table, he picked up the quill once more and went back to the letter. Sirius slept.


	12. Day Twelve: Tea

**Prompt**: the first snowfall (can be seen in the scarvesnhats community on LiveJournal or in the story that is on my LiveJournal. It's my website on my bio here).

-

Remus lounged in the backdoor of Grimmauld Place, a cup of tea warming his bare hands in the chill early fall morning. A soft blanket of snow covered the yard and he watched the massive black furred body moving through it. It was hardly enough snow and all ready Remus could see it starting to melt as Padfoot rolled over onto his back, all four paws toward the gray sky above.

"He needs to come inside," Molly warned suddenly, appearing at his side. Remus shook his head.

"Let me finish my tea and I'll bring him in for breakfast," he said smoothly, taking a sip from the mug.

"Oh, all right," Molly sighed and he heard her moving back toward the kitchen. He didn't bother turning around to make sure she was gone.

He glanced into his mug and then out at the black dog currently making a day of running about through the rapidly melting snow. With a small smile, he decided that he'd had enough tea for today.


End file.
